Part One: The Sons of Dumbledore
by MG and NerdLee
Summary: What if Harry and Dudley were friends? Plotline includes: old goats, drunken Irishmen, prank wars, and The Garden Gnome Guide to Potty Training. And much, much more! This is just the first part in our 8 part series.
1. Prologue and Dudley's Birthday

Author's Notes: 

And Other Things To Whine About: Ummm, we are of two minds about this fic. Probably because we ARE two different minds. We're sisters, both collaborating on our first fic. We'd love to hear your reviews, and are not above begging. Seriously, reviews will be highly rewarded. Well,maybe not. But it'll keep one or both of us from crying if you do.

We intend to have a series called The Sons of Dumbledore. And it should mix up their years in Hogwarts pretty dang good. There won't be Ginny/Harry action in this first one, but know that we intend to down the line. It seemed too hard to pair the two of them up while they are still in nappies, you know? It'd be a rather boring relationship if you think about it.

Again, if you see any discrepancies, problems, or things you hate about this story, feel free to let us know by, you guessed it, reviewing. Flames make us laugh, or feel challenged. And, as we are, unfortunately, Americans, and as such are unable to be in any of the HP movies, please forgive the Americanisms that slip through. We'll try to posh it up for you, but that's not saying much, in our experience.

Love and stuff,  
Kenyon and Mia 

**The Sons of Dumbledore**

**Prologue:**

Aberforth Dumbledore was concerned. As the barkeep of The Hogshead, he was no stranger to gossip. Truth be told, he usually was among the first to know when rumors started flying. The unusual news today had hit him hard, and rang of truth. That is, before the celebrations began, and the firewhiskey started to flow, loosening the tongues, and the wits, of those telling the stories. The fantastic events grew more outlandish with every shot of whiskey, and pint of ale. And the consumption of alcohol had begun extremely early that November morning. Needless to say, it had been a very long day. And it wasn't over yet. Not by a long shot.

He cursed Dedalus Diggle colorfully as a green and pink pinwheel firework exploded less than a meter from his head. He suddenly wished that he had gone ahead and made that illegal portkey, Ministry be damned. His roundabout flight over Bristol was going to be the death of him. And he was afraid he wouldn't make it on time. Above him, if he listened hard enough, he could make out the rumbling sound of a motorcycle amid the booms, whizzes and crashing noises of Diggle's sky bound light show. If his suspicions were correct, he was definitely going to be late.

Under normal circumstances he reveled in the feeling of the wind pushing against the wings of his animagus form. But these were not normal circumstances, and he was, once again, forcing himself to remember why he hadn't simply flooed directly into The Leaky Cauldron at Diagon Alley. '_No_,' he reminded himself_. 'Can't take the chance on being recognized tonight.'_ The last thing he wanted was for his brother to catch wind that he'd been anywhere near London. '_Right. Best to be paranoid and sore,'_ he thought to himself, then urged his aching muscles to take him ever faster to follow the Thames River towards Surrey.

If he knew Albus, and there were very few alive that could claim to be able to anticipate that man's thinking, he knew exactly where he planned to take the boy. Well, he thought bitterly, perhaps not exactly. From his position in the airspace above Little Whinging, it was proving to be quite the task to find a specific location. '_Guess I'll just have to go it on a wing and a prayer'_, he thought, amused by his own terrible pun.

As luck would have it, he didn't have to pray very long. A glimmer of moving light caught his eye, before the luminous globe found its location, and was extinguished. He'd seen this phenomenon before. Albus.

The trick now, was to see without being seen, and to hear without being heard. No use throwing up a silencing charm, or anything of the sort. He knew his brother would detect his magical signature as surely as if he decided to show up wearing a neon flashing sign announcing his presence.

He was grateful for his dark coloring and silent wings as he lit softly upon a fully dimmed light post to eavesdrop on his older brother. He was surprised to hear him conversing with the groundskeeper and transfiguration professor of Hogwarts. He listened intently as his more talented brother detailed his plan to leave Harry with his mother's sister, and how he wanted Harry to have a normal childhood, away from the celebrity that was sure to follow the events of the previous night. This was all as he had suspected.

Aberforth's mind had raced over these possibilities ever since his first customer had burst into the dingy pub that morning, shouting the praises of the boy-who-lived and demanding an entire bottle of fire whiskey to toast him with. His brain was trying to sort out a number of puzzling events that must somehow be connected. He recalled throwing Severus Snape from his pub, as Sybil Trelawney voiced what he judged to have been a prophesy, from what little he heard. He recalled the births of The Potter's and Longbottom's sons at the end of July of the same year, and their mysterious self-imposed exile shortly after. Pondering on this had led, oddly enough, to a very long and tiresome flight across Britain, to a too normal house on a too normal street, and a handful of powerful magical beings discussing the future of an infant outside, in the street, at nearly 1 am.

Indeed, it was quite remarkable that, given the amount of information he had, Aberforth had been able to anticipate what his brother would have decided to do with said child. He determined to watch over this boy, and see for himself what kind of life his brother was fating him to. While the rest of the wizarding world might take it for granted that their beloved and esteemed Albus Dumbledore would always know what was best, his brother had no such blind spot towards him. He would find out for himself.

Aberforth watched silently as the child was placed with care upon the steps of Number 4 Privet Drive. He listened to the drone of the motorbike as Hagrid disappeared from view. He heard the familiar pops as Minerva McGonagall and Albus disapparated. And he was there to witness the looks of horror and shock upon the face of Harry's Aunt Petunia, as she came to the realization of just whom she had been landed with.

**Chapter One: Dudley's Birthday**

"Duddikins!"

"Happy Birthday son."

"Ohhhh is my wittle boy all grown up? Is he? Is he?"

If anyone had known what to look for, they may have noticed the unusual behavior of a certain large, shiny blackbird perched upon a low-lying branch on a particularly harshly manicured crab apple tree. They might have puzzled that this same blackbird had taken up residence in this neighborhood, yet had no nest to call home. They might have found it odd that a bird of the wild seemed to take an unlikely interest in the goings on of the decidedly domestic inhabitants of a meticulously fusty dwelling. But the inhabitants of Little Whinging were much more likely to enjoy pressing their noses against their neighbor's window panes, much in the same fashion as said bird, than to be engaged with watching the bizarre behavior of the local wildlife.

The youngest of the Dumbledore brothers was watching with disgust through the window of Number 4 Privet Drive, as Petunia Dursley mollycoddled her young lump of a son. Judging by the vast amount of presents surrounding the blond little boy, it was his birthday, and he was certainly milking his parents for all they were worth.

Aberforth had been watching the Dursleys for just over two weeks now, and so far he saw nothing to his liking. Vernon Dursley and his wife Petunia were abysmal parents to their son. They gave the boy absolutely everything that he could possibly want, and he fully knew this. He would scream and cry whenever he wanted something and wouldn't stop until he got it. He usually didn't have to cry for very long. As though determined that their son should feel superior to the new addition to their home, Dudley would only get one or two squawks out before his parents would come running with presents to appease him (even when it wasn't his birthday).

What absolutely astonished the old man was they Dursley's behavior towards their new inconvenience, Harry Potter. The poor boy had the same instinct that any fifteen-month-old child would have. He wanted to walk around; he was curious about the world. The Dursleys however, had other ideas. From the time he woke up in the morning to the time he was tucked unlovingly onto the bare mattress in 'his' cupboard under the stairs, he was consistently ignored. His natural curiosity was looked upon with disdain, and was generally met with an ugly face and a sharp word of displeasure.

Aberforth was both disgusted and deeply saddened that before the Dursleys had been in charge of Harry for a single week, he had learned not to cry or express himself whatsoever. He knew the boy cried himself to sleep every night, and shuddered to think of what confused dreams likely plagued his sleep. His cries were never answered unless they continued to the point of depriving the Dursley's of their own sleep.

For what was probably appearance's sake, his nappy diapers were changed with military precision. His meals were always squarely on time, though the portions were always significantly smaller that those given to the Dursley's own son. Most of his waking hours were spent in something Petunia had called a "play pen". Though he thought it was probably broken, as it didn't do any playing with its occupant, but acted more like a cage. The last of the Potters spent his considerable spare time pulling himself up on the sides of the pen, only to be scolded intermittently that he was _going to topple the whole contraption over, and then what will we do with you._

The Dursley's own son was quite unusual himself, by normal standards of development. The already hefty 2 year-old rarely left his mother's side. Literally. Petunia miraculously performed all her household chores with only one hand, as the other was always occupied with snuggling her 'precious boy' upon her bony hip. As a result, young Dudley had yet to learn to walk on his own. In fact, Aberforth mused, he doubted if the lad could support his own weight if he tried. Perhaps the fact that this was something that the Potter boy had already accomplished was the reason why he was not allowed to roam freely. Wouldn't want him showing up little Dudders, now would we? Or perhaps it was simply because Petunia had a deep seated fear of her home becoming in any way messy or disorganized.

At present, Dudley was sitting happily on his mother's lap, as relatives and a few friends of his parents gathered around in anticipation of the gifts waiting to be opened. He was dressed in a too cute sailor outfit, complete with a red bow and sailor's cap sitting at a jaunty angle upon his nearly baldhead. He was looking greedily at his presents atop his mother's lap, while she helped him tear apart a baby blue package. He was so preoccupied with his presents, that he didn't see his little cousin in the corner eyeing his presents excitedly.

Harry was sitting in his "play pen" looking at the little red train set with a longing look in his bright green eyes.

Harry's cousin was now reaching for the brightly colored crinkly papers -they made such lovely crunching sounds- as his mother continued to hand gift after gift to him to open, only to take away his favorite part of the presents, and cast them into the rubbish bin nearby. For once in his life, fussing about something got him nowhere. Petunia would simply giggle, Vernon would chuckle and pat his back, and he was handed another box to open, crinkly paper taken away immediately. After about the 8th time this had occurred, Dudley became bored with opening his presents, and began plotting a way to get out of his mother's grasp, and retrieve his lovely crinkly papers, when something unexpected happened. The red train set began slowly chugging its way towards the playpen, where Harry had pulled himself up to his fullest height, and was stretching his arm over the top of the baby cage, while making gurgling train noises.

The guests really didn't think much of this, as the little train _was _battery operated. But Petunia Dursley turned 3 shades paler as the toy approached Harry's playpen. She wasn't the only one to be taking this scene in, or to recognize it for what it was. Showing surprising intelligence for one so young, not to mention encumbered with the genes of both, Petunia and Vernon Dursley, Dudley found this small burst of magic to be fascinating. Reveling in the hint of power he recognized, he decided, as small children are prone to do, to give it a try himself.

Petunia Dursley's bony grip had slackened as she watched her son's toy choo-choo it's self towards her nephew. Despite early appearances, Dudley was not a stupid child, and seized his opportunity. Floating 3 feet off the floor, he levitated himself until he was positioned precariously above the rubbish bin containing his precious crinkly papers. Then, with a giggle of happiness, the charm was cancelled, and he came crashing down amongst the bright papers and ribbons that had so recently adorned his birthday presents. Petunia's shrieks of horror and astonishment mingled with that of a certain blackbird's gleeful caws.

It was possibly the best laugh that Aberforth had had since the incident with the overly drunken Irishman, 3 years ago. He and Aberforth had disagreed that he'd had enough to drink for the night, and Abe had ended up charming the man's mouth shut. The man, determined to have the final say in the matter, decided to consume his beverage through his nose. For future reference, this does not work well if your mouth is magically sealed. This had been very amusing to watch until he had been sprayed with what was no longer Ogden's Finest, through the patron's nose. He was pretty sure that this event topped the drunken Irishman.

Albus Dumbledore was not having a good day. Ever since that un-godly hour this morning, his day was doomed. Precisely at five AM he was awakened out of his slumber by a tawny owl bearing a message requesting his presence in a trial at the Ministry of Magic, and in no less than an hour! He was not only irritated at the lack of consideration from the Minister, but also because of exactly why he was going to the trial. Lucius Malfoy was on trial for being a loyal follower of Voldemort's. Of course, now that Voldemort was gone, Lucius was pleading that he was put under the Imperius Curse. So naturally, after many bribes and donations, he was let go. Then after the trial Albus had to watch Fudge sign a completely useless law, go through mountains of paperwork for Hogwarts, then to top his day off, he was out of Lemon Drops.

The Headmaster sighed as he made his way back to his desk. He gave the stiff, wing-backed chair a long look, furrowed his brow, smiled slyly, and then waved his wand. Instantly a large blue Lazy Boy chair replaced the stiff black one.

As Dumbledore sat down comfortably in his squashy blue chair, he looked over at his faithful companion, Fawkes. His phoenix just looked at him with sympathy and trilled a few notes. This calmed him down even better than his Lemon Drops.

Not many people knew that Albus laced his Lemon Drops with a small dose of Calming Potion. These always seemed to help when he was about to get into a particular intense or uncomfortable conversation. The muggle candies always helped him to keep his cool in difficult situations. He would simply pop one in his mouth and offer one to his present company. They certainly made things less complicated. His lack of having his Lemon Drops did not make it any easier to go throughout the day.

Albus looked around his office at the portraits of the late headmasters, the uncomfortable looking chairs in front of his desk, his mahogany bookcase, and his various magical detectors. As his twinkling eyes came across the detectors they stopped all of a sudden when they spotted a green tinted glass globe filling with purple smoke. He raised his eyebrows slightly and grinned. Then as he was thinking about the meaning of the purple smoke, a yellow smoke began appearing in the glass ball. This made Dumbledore's grin get even wider.

The Headmaster stood up from his recliner and walked briskly over to his bookcase. His eyes went over all of the books until they came upon the book he was looking for. He pulled out the ancient and leather-bound book. The book's pages were yellowed with age, though the ink still looked as though it was written an hour or so ago.

Albus flipped through the huge tome trying to find the chapter he was looking for. "D...D...D...Dursley! Here it is!"

The top of the page he was currently opened to was titled,_"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Enrollment: Last Name: D"_ There were about forty names in an alphabetical list on the parchment.

Starting with "Danes" his long, wrinkled finger traveled down the list quickly trying to find what he was looking for. His grin got even wider. "Oh, Petunia, I don't think you're going to like this..."

As a matter of fact, Petunia didn't like it. She didn't like anything about it. This was just about the worst news, in her opinion, that she could have ever received.

Around the room, everyone was showing some form of reaction to what had happened. A group of three that was seated furthest from the scene had continued their cheerful conversation until they heard Petunia's sudden cries of alarm. Suddenly, the atmosphere seemed to silence strangely. Even little Harry had ended his summons to the toy train in anticipation. One young woman with fashionably fluffy bangs had just now noticed the young round boy playing amid the wrappings and trash, and whispered to her companion, "What happened, Lori?" She merely received a shrug in response, as all continued to ogle the spectacle, waiting for the reaction from the parents. Vernon Dursley had begun to involuntarily shake as he realized the implications of what had happened. His face was becoming darker shades of pink by the minute in his extreme embarrassment. And his double chins had begun quivering from the chills that had been shaking his body.

The atmosphere of the room turned stranger still, if it was possible, as a group of four adults in extremely odd costumes suddenly appeared, accompanied by a series of loud bangs. Petunia and Vernon were either stunned into silence, or possibly too fearful to respond to the intruders verbally. Some of the guests' mouths had dropped open with blatant astonishment. A few of the women, and one of the men had emitted a surprised squeak or two at the bangs of what were assumed to be fireworks. After a moment of shocked silence, the party guests began to applaud the spectacular entrance of the Dursley's hired entertainers.

After taking a moment to gather themselves together, and assess the situation, one of the "entertainers" brandished a thick switch of a wand, and poker cards began spilling from his costume sleeves. They arched themselves over the man's head, only to disappear down the neck of his outfit. The guests all broke out into an enthusiastic applause as the "entertainers" joined hands together and bowed. Another slender stick was produced, and flashes of pyrotechnic light filled the sitting room with blue and gold sparks. The other three "performers" began waving their own wands intricately, as beams of yellow light encircled the party guests individually. As the "finale" ended, the performers bowed yet again, and walked through the door to await their hosts in the kitchen.

As the guests gathered their things dazedly and said their goodbyes, none had noticed when Petunia had gathered her son in shaking arms. Or when she had placed her gleeful son beside her nephew in the playpen, still clutching happily to his prized paper. They didn't notice that neither of the Dursley adults had smiled or applauded the entertainment, but instead cowered together silently to wait out the end of their catastrophic party. Oddly enough, if asked later on, the guests simply remembered that they had attended a birthday party for the Dursleys' son that had ended with a rather good magic show. They were rather vague on the details of what the entertainers had done that was so good, or indeed any minute details of the party. But it didn't seem to bother them at all.

One of the women from the delegation stepped towards the cowering Dursleys, as soon as the guests had parted. She was wearing navy blue robes with a red patch sewn on the left breast of the material. The patch had black initials reading "M.R.S. Member: Alexandria Beirnon ". She was a middle aged African woman. Her dark hair with golden-blond highlights was in a high ponytail. She had a bemused look upon her face as she extended her hand to Vernon Dursley.

"Good afternoon sir, I am Alexandria Beirnon from the Magical Reversal Squad. These are my colleagues Matthias Kroger, Alexandra Druid (a bit confusing at times), and Toby Ofoot." Said Beirnon.

"We are here because your sons have displayed accidental magic in front of other non-magical folk." Put in the silver haired man, standing closest to Alexandria.

"Normally we would have not responded to such a situation, except that this occurred in front of your guests, who incidentally have had their memories modified. They will remember nothing of the party except that they had a wonderful time and there was a magnificent magic show at the end."

Petunia let out a sigh of a relief. She was torn between being grateful that her reputation among her friends was not damaged, and being horrified that such freaks were standing in her kitchen talking about MAGIC that her SON had caused to happen. '_No,'_ she thought, '_that my nephew had caused. It was his fault. He was the one who showed Dudders magic'_. Her Duddikins would never thought to have done something so freakish if it hadn't been for that boy. She frantically ran around kitchen closing all windows and pulling across shutters. She didn't want any of the neighbors learning of her affiliation with these strange people.

Vernon was currently going so many different shades of purple; you'd think he was a giant bruise. It was highly amusing for the M.R.S. members to witness. They were all attempting to stifle their laughter as Petunia scampered all about the kitchen like a nervous Fwooper, and also trying not to loose their breakfast whilst watching Vernon imitate a chameleon. The tall strawberry blond man leaned over to the silver haired man near him whispering in his Irish accent, "I think we are getting better entertainment than we gave." The silver haired man grinned at him.

Then Petunia remembered something the man had said. "That _boy_ is not my son."

"Excuse me?" asked the brunette, presumptuously, Alexandra Druid, "Is the blond your son?"

"Yes." Petunia replied stiffly, "He is our son."

"And the other child?" Alexandra inquired

"He is…er…our charge."

"Alright then. Now because of this, we are able to discern that your son and…charge are _wizards_, sir and madam. This means that when they are of age they may be accepted into our community to be trained and taught the uses and limits of their abilities." Recited the silver haired man, judging by his name patch, he was Matthias Kroger. He gave them an encouraging smile.

Petunia was gaping at them, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, no sound coming out. She glanced in a panicked jerky motion to her husband who rather resembled a walrus about to do battle. His jowls were shaking in his fury. Little drops of spittle were flying from beneath his mustache as he emitted a low growling sound that really didn't resemble speech at all. If not for the need of professionalism, it was certain that the M.R.S. members would have been clutching their sides in peals of laughter.

The strawberry blond, Toby Ofoot, broke in, "Sir? Do you need a drink?" As he said this he waved his wand towards the cabinets. Two shot glasses and a bottle of brandy flew from the shelves, stopped in mid-air, and the bottle started filling the glasses with the amber liquid.

To the ignorance of the Squad, the Dursleys were becoming more and more indignant with each passing moment. Petunia had started hyperventilating and Vernon was looking at the shot of whiskey like it was poison.

As she was hyperventilating, Petunia involuntarily looked through the kitchen door at her son and nephew. They were playing happily in the "play-pen". Harry looked like Christmas had come early; he had a friend to play with. Dudley seemed to be enjoying his wrapping paper immensely. They both had large smiles upon their chubby little faces and were proceeding to make Dudley's wrapping paper into confetti/baby food. Harry didn't seem to mind the taste of it but that did not deter Dudley who squashed another handful of blue striped paper into his mouth. He was in heaven.

Petunia was now hyperventilating so badly she almost couldn't breathe. She hurried over to her cabinets looking for a paper bag, but couldn't find one. Seeing that the situation was getting out of hand, Toby cast a Calming Charm on her. Vernon saw this and slammed his fist into the wizard's face. Toby was clutching his face in pain until Alexandra whispered a few words, waved her wand, healing his face. Then the women cast an isolation bubble on Vernon. Lets just say that he was…angry.

Despite the fact that she was breathing properly, Petunia was flaming mad. What right did these freaks have to be in her house attacking her husband and herself!?

She didn't want this; she didn't ask for this, she didn't want any of it. This was entirely fault. He brought this upon her home. She'd worked too hard for this to touch her life. Especially not now; especially not her son. She would go right to the source. Albus Dumbledore.

"I want to talk to Albus Dumbledore."

Four faces turned and looked at her in shock.

"Petunia, _no_." whispered Vernon, his voice sounding oddly distorted form his bubble of isolation.

"I don't care Vernon. He WILL fix this!" She spat back.

The Squad members were completely flabbergasted.

"Madam? Are you a squib?" asked Matthias.

Petunia slapped him. Hard. Matthias leaned over to Toby while rubbing his cheek. "So do you reckon that was a yes or a no, mate?"

He just shrugged; still a bit shocked that Vernon punched him in the face and then his wife slapped his co-worker in the face. This was definitely one of the oddest days he'd ever had. And for a wizard, that was saying something.

The Reversal Squad wasn't quite sure what to do now. You couldn't just owl _Albus Dumbledore _in the middle of the day, asking him to help you out with a simple muggle problem. Could you? No, definitely not.

After sizing the situation up for a moment, Alexandria leaned over to whisper to Matthias, "Chances are that she's not a squib. People usually seem to be overjoyed that their child is magical. These people," she gestured to the Dursleys, "seem to hate magic."

"Really? You don't say?" Toby said while rubbing his jaw.

"I want to talk to Albus Dumbledore and I want to talk to him now!" Petunia was getting a bit frustrated by the fact that the squad had completely stopped talking to her. They were all standing together muttering amongst themselves as though they didn't know what to do and they weren't going to discuss it with her.

"Well she's obviously not a squib"

"Yeah? Well how does she know about Dumbledore?"

"Dunno."

"She must have a reason to hate magic so much."

"I don't know. What do we do? Ask her wh-"

The doorbell chimed a boring tune.

"Oh, Alexandra, please tell me that you didn't forget to put up the muggle repelling charms after the guests left."

"Oops." She said clapping her hand on her mouth.

Petunia fainted. They all turned to look at her and then back at each other.

"Well is someone going to get the door?"

Alexandra walked to the door, a smile plastered on her face, wand in hand. Reaching out her left wandless hand, she turned the doorknob. There standing in the doorway was an ancient old man dressed in magenta robes with odd shaped figures adorning them. His electric blue eyes were twinkling madly, and his smile couldn't get any bigger.

"Hello, I am Albus Dumbledore, is Mrs. Dursley here?"


	2. The Greatest Prank Ever

If anyone walking past Number Four Privet Drive were to peer into the garden on the side of the house, they would see a strange sight indeed. They would see an old blackbird that had fallen out of the tree, having what seemed to be, a seizure.

Aberforth could not contain his laughter. The moment was priceless. He remembered the looks on the Dursleys' faces and the guests when the Magical Reversal Squad showed up, and went into hysterics yet again. Petunia looked as though she would wet herself and Vernon looked as though he would tip over and fall onto the floor with the slightest shove.

'_Nice cover'_ he thought as he watched the Reversal Squad "perform" their magic "tricks" for the party guests. Oh, and then Petunia's expression when Alexandria Beirnon and Matthias Kroger explained their presence…. Aberforth could easily forget how boring the last two weeks had been and just think about how entertaining it was to look through the perfectly cleaned window at the events unfolding inside the house.

Of course, as soon as he picked himself up off of the ground to look back inside, Petunia ran around the kitchen closing all the blinds so that nobody could see in. Bugger. Abe flew back up to the tree that he had been occupying for the past two weeks. After he perched on the crabapple, he tried entertaining himself since he could no longer peep into the Dursley household. He couldn't exactly twiddle his thumbs while in his animagus form, so Aberforth decided he would go poop on Vernon's windshield for the fourth time that day. It was oddly satisfying.

On his way back, Abe almost crashed into the tree. He heard a loud pop. There in all his glory, striding up the Dursleys' walkway was Albus Dumbledore.

_Oh goody, more fun, _he thought as he almost collided into the crabapple tree.

Back in the house, Matthias was casting an innervate charm on Petunia while Vernon was banging his fists on his isolation bubble. Alexandra's jaw dropped open when he introduced himself to her. The other three Squad members were all reacting similarly. Toby dropped his wand, Alexandria had a blank look upon her face, and Matthias looked like he just got trampled by a herd of hippogriffs.

"May I come in?" Dumbledore asked.

"Of…of c-course Headmaster." Alexandra stammered. It wasn't every day that the world's most powerful wizard showed up to help you with a muggle problem. Even more interesting was what came out of his mouth next.

"I'll take it from here shall I? Thank you very much for all that you have done. That will be all." Alexandra's jaw hit the floor. She didn't know how to respond, so she motioned her shell-shocked co-workers out the door. Once all of them were outside, Matthias broke the silence.

"Huh. That was interesting."

"No kidding." Alexandria said.

"So…What now?" Toby asked.

"Lunch anyone?" Alexandra replied.

"Sounds good. Where to?" Alexandria inquired.

"Leaky Cauldron?" Suggested Toby. Everyone nodded, still a little bit confused as to what just happened. Four pops later, the Dursleys' front lawn was completely empty. Well, except for a bewildered blackbird.

"You! You _will_ change my Dudders back!" Petunia screamed, advancing on the Headmaster. Here was the man who had brought this all upon her. This was the freak that dumped That Boy on her doorstep. He was the one who muddled up her life. If it weren't for him, none of this would have happened! None of it! And now, her son was a _freak_. No, she would make him correct it. This couldn't happen to her son.

"Mrs. Dursley, Mr. Dursley, why wouldn't you want your son to-"

"BECAUSE HE WILL NOT BE A FREAK!"

"Perhaps we should sit down," Dumbledore sighed.

"_Finete Incatatem_." He added as he assessed Vernon's situation. The obese man had been banging on his barrier as if he could break it down if he tried hard enough. Needless to say, it hadn't been working.

Vernon let out a grunt as he fell to the ground. He was leaning all of his weight on the isolation bubble that when it disappeared, he fell straight down in a large _thump! _

Dumbledore ignored this, and proceeded to try and figure out what had happened here this day. Truth of the matter was, he needed more details. He needed to understand things better before he could help the situation. Now if only the Dursleys would cooperate.

"Mrs. Dursley, if you would kindly explain, I was only aware that underage magic occurred from two different sources here. If you would please elaborate, I am sure we could get your son sorted out quickly." Dumbledore said calmly as he made his way into to sitting room and sat down in a plush green armchair. He didn't dare use any magic for fear of exiting the muggles into another near panic. So, he settled for the one that was already there. It wasn't near as comfortable as his conjured chairs usually are.

"Happened?" Petunia nearly shrieked, pointing towards the play pen, "Happened! That greedy little gutter-snipe is what happened!"

Dumbledore looked over in the corner where Harry and Dudley were playing happily. Dudley was shredding the paper and Harry was gleefully helping. He smiled at them, his eyes gaining a little bit more twinkle when he heard Harry giggle as Dudley threw some of the confetti on top of his shock of black hair. He was not happy with the tone or name calling in reference to the youngest of the Potters, but chalked it up to the trauma of the situation. These were parents that were simply in denial. Not to mention, more than a little frightened about how this would affect their lives. Harry was an easy scapegoat. So, for now, he would let the comment slide.

Albus turned back the Dursleys and motioned Petunia to continue her story with his left hand.

Vernon seemed to find his voice again and boomed in what he thought was a menacing manner, "That little ruffian has tainted our son! On his birthday no less! He was pulling that train towards him. The red one that Dudders got from the Wilkinson's,"

"Indeed, it was his first train! Do you know how much it must have cost?" Petunia interrupted.

"I take it magic was involved?" Dumbledore commented in a sober voice.

Petunia and Vernon both shuddered at the word "magic". Albus was momentarily amused by the similarity in which people in the wizarding world responded to the use of Voldemort's name. As though it wasn't something to be discussed in mixed company.

"I suppose you could call it that. It isn't everyday that toy trains travel vertically of their own accord, now is it!?" Vernon snorted pompously.

"How so?" Dumbledore inquired simply.

"He it! It he! Train…it! Boy!" Petunia spluttered. Her husband patted her comfortingly on the head as though she were a highly excitable dog.

"That boy pulled our Dudley's train to him. It just started moving on its own. Then crawling up the side of his pen. I don't know how it happened. But it…it wasn't natural. It wasn't right!" Vernon growled angrily. "Then…and then…" Vernon put his head in his meaty hands, shaking it side to side.

Albus let him be silent for a while, listening to his raspy breaths and Petunia's panicky gasping ones, as they tried to calm down. After a moment, Albus leaned forward slightly and asked calmly, "Then he what?"

"Dudley…He…He fl-floated! He floated a-above the wrapping paper!" Vernon finished.

And then Dumbledore made a mistake. "Impressive." He said with a smile.

The Dursleys didn't think so. Not one bit. Vernon went back to changing his face's color into different shades of green while growling menacingly and Petunia gave a loud shriek.

"IMPRESSIVE? Impressive! I don't want him to be impressive! I WANT MY SON TO BE NORMAL!" She shouted on the verge of tears. "Why can't I have that? I thought I was done and away with this _funny business_ when I distanced myself from Lily and then you dump her kid with me! Why me? Why can't I have a normal life away from you people? Why?" Her tears started falling freely and she started pacing "And then _that boy _goes and shows my son magic." She spat. "I can't do this. I don't want this! Make my son normal again!" Petunia fell back down on the loveseat that she and Vernon had been occupying.

Vernon put a beefy arm around his wife and glared at the man seated in front of him. Petunia had told him about what freaks her sister and brother-in-law were. Naturally he supported her and shared her hate for them and anything not in the norm. So now, when their own son was showing those unnatural abilities…. He just wanted things back the way they were before, before the boy.

"Change him back," Vernon said coldly, "I want him to be normal again."

Albus was confused. Normal? Change him back? Did he hear right?

"Mr. Dursley, what exactly is wrong with Dudley?" Albus inquired.

Vernon yelled, "Wrong!? He's a bloody w-w-wizard!" He whispered the last part afraid one of the neighbors might over hear him.

Albus let out a sigh. He wished he could change the Dursleys' feelings towards the wizarding world, but alas, he couldn't. He looked back over to the boys playing in their pen and his brow furrowed. The sides were cracked and falling down, and it looked as thought it would tumble over with a small push._ 'Wait a moment…is that playpen broken? What is going on? Why would they put mere babies in something like that?' _Albus was broken out of his thoughts by a tearful Petunia. Albus turned his attention back to the couple, "There has to be something you can do for our Dudders. Something! Suck the magic out of him with your stick or…something!"

Dumbledore almost smiled at that, but thought better of it. He let out another sigh and said, "Mrs. Dursley, I'm afraid that that is both highly unethical and holds the potential of having harmful side effects on the child, occasionally." Seeing Petunia's panic written across her face, he knew he could not force her to raise these children she didn't want, to live a life that would make her miserable. "To answer your question, yes Mrs. Dursley, there are ways to bind his magic, but there are no ways to 'suck the magic out of him'." This wasn't completely true. There really were ways to take the magic out of a person. But these were used on criminals, not children. He just wouldn't tell the Dursleys this. It was wrong to completely rob a person of their powers.

"So you can fix him?" Petunia asked hopefully.

"Well, not to 'fix' him, but yes there are ways to bind his powers. It would be a sort of barrier making it impossible for him to access his magic. Is this what you want? It is reversible, should you change your mind."

"Yes, that is what we want!" Vernon said quickly, "We just want him normal again."

Albus looked at them sadly and said, "I am sorry, but there is also a catch. It would take weeks to get authorization from our Ministry to brew the potion to bind your son's magic."

He hated Binding children's powers; it wasn't fair to them. Not to mention, potentially dangerous. In the past century, the Ministry had only ever consented to Binding a child's power on 6 occasions. Most were because of the manner in which their fledgling powers manifested had been terribly traumatic to the child; to the point that the child's magic would always haunt and horrify them. And was therefore allowed to be stripped away, as a safety to the child. On one occasion that he had assisted in, the child's first use of magic had been at the age of 8. A neighborhood dog had charged upon the boy, and the poor child's magic had set the animal on fire. The lad had been more than happy to never have to be responsible for anything of the sort ever again. His parents had been quite relieved that his memory had been able to be modified, and their son did not have to suffer nightmares from then on. Albus had had to agree that that had been in the boy's best interest.

This was an entirely different matter. However, judging on the Dursley's behavior, and their extreme prejudice against magic, growing up in this household as a wizard could be quite detrimental. If only there were a way to keep this from becoming the seventh time this century. But Albus wasn't really seeing the possibility of persuading the Dursleys. Perhaps though, he might still be able to force their hand on Harry's behalf. They hadn't seemed nearly as concerned that Harry had performed magic. They had almost expected it. Maybe, he thought, just maybe they would come to see the benefit of magic in time. It was conceivable that they might be persuaded in later years to allow Dudley's magic to be returned to him. Yes. That was what must be done. Temporarily sacrifice the magic of one, for the well being of two.

"_Weeks_?" Petunia breathed, "I can't wait weeks! What if the neighbors see? What if-"

"I'm sorry Mrs. Dursley but, it will take at least two weeks." Albus said.

"Then you bloody well go fast! We can't have the neighbors hearing about this!" Vernon said in what he thought was a threatening tone.

Albus just nodded as he stood up. "I will be in touch, good evening Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," He smiled at the boys in the playpen in the corner. '_This had definitely been an interesting day'_, he thought as he let himself out the front door.

Aberforth was baffled. '_What in Merlin's name was Albus doing here? And what the bloody hell just happened? And what exactly do I do now?'_

Finally, after pooping on Petunia's roses, making a few scratches on Vernon's car, and pulling off the clothespins that were holding up the laundry that was hanging on the line so that the clothes would fall in the dirt, Abe decided to try again to find a way to listen in on the conversation inside the house.

Aberforth flew around the house looking for any openings to listen through. As he was flying around the second story, he saw an open window. _Now why didn't I think of this before? I could have gotten a better view of the party! Well, and the M.R.S.' conversation with the Dursleys. Argh…_

He flew through the little window and found himself in what must have been the master bedroom. The room was unnaturally clean. It was disgusting to Abe. How can someone live in this? It is like a hospital! He surveyed the room. The walls were salmon pink, the carpet was sea foam green and the comforter on the bed was white. The bed frame was redwood with a tacky outline of fig leaves. '_Fig leaves? You've got to be joking…_He thought. _And who picked out the colors for the room? Please tell me it was Dudley, because if it was Petunia, I just might go poop on her gardenias'. _On opposite sides of the room, set against the wall about five feet from the king sized bed, were a redwood vanity and a boring looking desk. On the vanity, there was a pallet of eye shadows and blushes, a framed picture of a newborn Dudley, and a line of black or light pink coloured lipstick tubes. The desk was covered with stacks of papers and some sharp looking pens. In the corner of the desk next to the telephone there was a framed picture of Petunia, Dudley, and Vernon.

_Oh…the possibilities…now the real fun starts. _Aberforth thought wickedly. Sadly, he didn't get up to very many pranks before he heard the front door close and Vernon shouting. Forgetting his intended mischief, Abe flew out of the room to find out why Vernon was shouting this time. As he was nearing the bottom of the stairs he heard Petunia say, "I just can't believe our Duddikins is _one of them_…"

"I know dear. That freak better hurry up and make that medicine! I don't want our son to continue to be tainted like them." Vernon said while walking into the kitchen to get a drink.

'_Medicine'? 'Continue to be tainted'?_ Was he talking about a potion? Aberforth re-ran what Vernon had said through his mind again. '_Could he be talking about a Binding Potion? Those have only been used about five or six times in the past hundred years… There's no way Albus is going to get the Ministry's permission to brew one…'_

Over in their corner, Dudley abandoned his precious wrapping papers and turned to the red train that Harry was currently playing with. Dudley made to grab the toy from Harry and Harry pulled it out of Dudley's reach. Dudley really wanted that toy, so he did what he usually did when he wanted something. He cried. Loudly. His mother heard him crying and came running to the pen. She stretched out her bony fingers and snatched the train from Harry. She handed the toy train to her son, making sure to make as little contact as possible with both boys (Dudley was still a freak). Dudley immediately stopped crying once his mum handed him the train, but Harry made the mistake of letting out a sniffle when it was taken. Petunia turned and slapped him upside the head and glared at him. Harry stayed silent.

As Aberforth watched this exchange, he wished he could do more to the Dursleys than poop on their belongings. '_While Albus was here, didn't he see that the Dursleys hate the poor boy? Couldn't he see that Harry is unwanted here? These people aren't fit to take care of their own child, much less the savior of the wizarding world.' _he thought. There was no telling what the Dursleys would do to Harry and their own son; they could do a lot of damage to the boys. He had to do something. Soon. Abe smiled internally (it is hard to smile as a blackbird). He knew just what to do. Now he needed a plan. After all, every truly good prank needs planning. He quite intended this to be his best yet. And between you, the blackbird, and me, that was saying something.

**Five days later…**

Aberforth strode up the Dursleys' walkway with a very prominent twinkle in his eyes. Anybody who saw him now would have no problem believing that he was indeed his brother. It would be quite impossible to tell them apart based solely on observing him in the Glamour Charms he had applied. He didn't need a Polyjuice Potion to clone his brother; he looked just like him except for some of the details. His white beard was extended, he aged himself a bit, and he added a few inches to his height. And, not only was he the spitting image of Albus, he adorned himself in a set of periwinkle purple robes with daisy embroidery in yellow on the bottom.

'_Could I look more like a nancy boy? Oh for goodness sakes…honestly I don't understand how he puts these sorts of robes on in the morning and still manages to keep a straight face throughout the day…or perhaps he wears them to throw people off guard and make them think he's just a barmy old man… Either way, I still feel like a flaming fairy.' _Abe thought as he glanced over his reflection in the window. He placed his non-prescription half-moon spectacles over his newly crooked nose and smiled at himself. This was going to be fun.

He stepped up to the Dursley's front door, and took a deep breath to steady himself for the ordeal ahead. Catching a glimpse of himself in the window on the door, he mentally reminded himself that walking into this place with a wide smile on his face was probably not the best idea_. 'Ix-nay on the prankster's smile. Check. Tone down the sparkling eyes. Check. Set face to bear unhappy news. Check. There_.' Now that his face was appropriately contorted for his purpose, he lifted a long, aged finger, and pressed it to the doorbell. The bell had not yet tolled the 'dong' part of its music before the door was flung wide, and he was all but dragged inside. '_Right_,' Aberforth thought. '_Best not to let neighbors see. For their sakes and mine._'

After he was pulled into the house (not so gently mind you), Petunia and Vernon looked at Abe with anxiety written all over their faces.

"Well? When can you do it?" Petunia demanded.

Aberforth looked down through his half-moon spectacles at her and did his best not to smile as he said, "I am sorry ma'am, the wizarding court overruled me. There is nothing I can do. I'm sorry."

"N-nothing you can d-do…?" Petunia stuttered. She looked as though someone stole her puppy on Christmas day. Aberforth almost felt sorry for her. Well, that is until, she extended a bony finger and poked him in the chest.

"This is your fault! You dumped that…that cretin! On our doorstep! And expect us to house, clothe, and feed him in our home! Then when we have a genuine need, you won't raise a finger to help us!" Petunia said as she raised her finger to, yet again, poke Aberforth in the chest.

He recoiled and put his hands up in surrender. "Dear lady, please calm yourself." _Ew…why must he still speak like he's from the middle ages? I need some of Albus' spiked lemon drops… _"This, of course, is not your only option. Unhappy as you must be with my answer, please do not think that you are the only non-magical family to be unable to cope with this sort of thing. Why, there is a boarding school for just such a purpose. Visiting, of course, allowed…" he petered out his conversation; letting his last words sink in.

Petunia and Vernon were aghast. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, and Aberforth could nearly see the cogs working in their brains. "_Boarding school. Visiting. He couldn't mean that we should just hand our child over to their care? We couldn't possibly, ever… Could we?"_

When the silence was finally broken, it seemed that the Dursleys had come to an agreement, without even speaking a word to each other. Vernon cleared his throat first. "There really isn't any way we could… you know. We just don't know how to…"

For a moment Abe feared that they would suck it up, and do the right thing after all. '_Damn it all_.' Then Petunia laid her hand on Vernon's considerable shoulder, and continued for him. "We really couldn't you know. There is no way that we would be happy together. Constantly worrying if he would hurt himself or others. Not being able to sort it out for ourselves." Tears started to fall down her pale face, "Always relying on the government of…of your kind to sort things out for us, strangers popping in to fix his messes. That simply will not do, Sir. I, we… we can't do this. I had no idea how it would really be to raise a, ahem, a wizard. Much less two." She spoke slowly, as though sorting her thoughts and feelings as she went along. Vernon closed his eyes and gave her a small nod as she finished speaking.

Aberforth gave an internal sigh. It was going to work.

"It is for the best." Aberforth said in what he hoped was a somber voice. "When shall I pick the boys up?" He asked.

Vernon looked at Petunia and calmly asked, "Petunia dear, when can we let go? I want some time with Dudley before he goes to that…with them."

"I don't know." She said, "How…how often will we get to see him?"

"Holidays of course and if you write ahead of time, I can bring them around when you ask." Aberforth replied. A few more tears fell from Petunia's face as he was talking and she nodded mutely.

"Give us a week." She said simply.

"Of course." Aberforth said. He was actually doing a little mental dance thinking, _'Oh Albus, this is going to be great!'_

"And the boy? What of the letter?" Vernon asked.

"Ah, yes, the letter," Aberforth bluffed. He was going on the assumption that they had not received any wizarding letters in the week and a half that he had been absent from their home. He could only hope that this was somehow a reference to Albus. Perhaps an explanation of their custody of Harry. Come to think of it, hadn't he seen a letter with the bundle that was baby Potter? Yes. That must be it. He couldn't be sure, but he hoped this wouldn't blow his cover.

"Erm, the letter. You have it still, I presume?"

Petunia gave him a scandalized look, and stage whispered angrily, "You think I would allow something like that to go into my garbage bin? The bin we set out at the end of our driveway, in public? Are you mad?"

"My apologies, madam. May I see it?"

Vernon cast him a suspicious look, and folded his arms. "Why?"

"Vernon, hush," Petunia said placidly. She laid her hand reassuringly on her husband's arm, and shook her head as if to say, "Leave it be. If it gets this mess taken care of sooner, so be it."

Petunia lifted a key from her skirt pocket and then went over to her china hutch. She unlocked the glass doors and reached her hand up to the ceiling of the cupboard and with a slight pull, released the letter, which had obviously been taped ingenuously in her "secret hiding place". For a muggle, Abe mused; she was a right sneaky woman.

"Here." She said as she handed the envelope to Aberforth. He nodded in thanks while opening the letter. His eyes moved like a typewriter as he skimmed the words quickly. Blood wards, yes that did sound like Albus' reasoning. The death of the Potters, very diplomatically put indeed. There was the explanation of beginning at Hogwarts, and of Harry's coming of age; along with the request that he be treated as they would their own son. _'And that had all worked out splendidly_', thought Abe sarcastically. The blood wards would be tricky, though. He wondered how long Harry would be gone from the house, before Albus knew, how long the Dursleys would have before the wards were gone. After all, Harry had been with them for less than a month. Surely that was not enough time to charge them to full strength. He would have to be quick with his arrangements, or all his careful planning would come crashing down around him. Probably accompanied by the wrath of his brother.

"I am assuming you want me to take your nephew as well." Aberforth said. The Dursleys said nothing. "Right. I will need you to sign a couple documents." He pulled out a few pieces of parchment he had gotten from a lawyer earlier that week and handed them to Petunia.

"What are these?" She asked.

"This one grants me temporary guardianship of Dudley and this on," He indicated to the second paper, "grants me guardianship of Harry." Petunia was sniffling wetly as she signed the papers.

"Thank you ma'am. I will be back in one week's time to collect the boys. Please have them and their things ready to leave be noon." Aberforth said, "Good evening."

"Don't you leave by the front door! I will not have the neighbors talking! Go out the back!" Petunia reprimanded sharply.

Abe nodded and made his way to the back exit. He smirked gleefully. "It worked! It worked!" He chanted to himself as he disapparated.


	3. Pulling It Off

**A/N: A HUGE thanks to Bundibird for editing! You are amazing! Thank you, thank you, thank you!**

**Chapter Three: Pulling It Off**

Aberforth was walking on air as he mounted the stairs to his flat above the Hog's Head. The moment he entered his messy flat, he pulled off Albus' pansy robes as quickly as he could. He looked at his brother's reflection in the mirror in the loo and pulled out his wand. He didn't want to look like his older brother any longer than he had to. Abe canceled the charms he had on his body and smiled devilishly at himself in the mirror.

"There's that handsome fool I have been waiting for!" The mirror said saucily. "Mmmm…mmhm!"

"Missed me Gilda?" He asked with a smile.

"Of course! But…oh…you really should think about keeping those spectacles. They give you a booky look."

"Uh huh," Abe said. After he had dressed himself in some more 'manly' robes, he went into the sitting room and sprawled across a large squashy armchair. "The blood magic will be a problem…." He said out loud. "Hmmm…" Abe smacked himself on the forehead, "Dudley!" Fate had dealt him a nice twist here. It still was not going to be an easy task. The muggle side of this operation had gone over rather well, he thought. The papers he had drawn up, and had had the Dursleys sign, needed only to have his signature next to the lines where his name was written, _A. Dumbledore_. Convenient that. The wizard side was going to be infinitely more complicated, he mused. He pulled out a pen (quills are too messy) and parchment, and then he wrote down what still needed to be done.

**One... Get a house that is relatively remote. Preferably a non-magical place – maybe a small house in Cornwall **

**Two... Procure non-magical baby items. – The boys probably still slept in cribs or bass…er… bastonets?… er…cradle thingies. Right? **

**Three... Take a leave of absence from The Hogshead. – Effective as of 3 weeks ago. **

**Four... Avoid Albus as long as possible, or until he hunts me down – I already do that. **

**Five... Get groceries – of all kinds **

**Six... Ask Levi to take over the bar until further notice **

**Seven... Pack up the flat **

**Eight... Make sure the house that I buy is in Dudley's name**

If the type of blood wards that Albus used were the same one that Aberforth thought he used, then there wouldn't be a problem. If they were the Genetic Blood Protection Wards, then the problem was solved easily. Lily died to save her son, so Harry would have the ancient Genetic Blood Protection passed through her blood to his. So who ever had Lily's blood and was housing her son (Petunia), that person would be enact the protection on o do was put the home in Dudley's name. Dudley had his mother's blood, and Petunia had Lily's. The blood protection wouldn't break.

Abe leaned back in the recliner. Today had been long; he would start preparing tomorrow. For now, he could sit back and enjoy the comfort of his chair while throwing back a couple shots of firewhiskey. Being Albus Dumbledore is tiring.

**Two days later…**

'_They can't be serious…why, in the name of Merlin's fuzzy pink socks would they name a shop that?'_

Aberforth was standing outside of a muggle shop in muggle London with a scowl planted on his face. The shop was named, "Bubble's and Burp's"._ Do they expect me to go into that shop and come out with my dignity still intact?_ The shop was covered in fluffy pink and blue plastic bows. There were dozens of multi coloured streamers, balloons, and teddy bears. The balloons all had little banners with little sayings such as, "It's a GIRL!" or, "It's a BOY!" Little clothes were on every surface, cribs and prams were lined against the walls, and there was a never-ending supply of nappies and tiny little socks.

Disgusting as this was to him, it seemed to be the norm for baby shops. Except for the paint job inside. Divided in half, one side of the store was painted hot pink with bright yellow and green polka dots. The other side was painted a fluorescent blue with neon orange and white dots. Worse still, it played not only on the walls, but the hideous color scheme seemed to have melted its way onto the floor as well; effectively marking off the divisions between the girl's and boy's items. Outside the store was a giant pink baby. It had his thumb in his mouth and the biggest nappy that Abe had ever seen.

Aberforth took a deep breath and pushed through the door. Upon entering the shop, he heard an annoying song. It just kept repeating, _"It's a small world after all! It's a small world after all! It's a small, small, world!" _

'_Someone turn it off!'_ Abe thought. The song was incessant and horrible. They might sing that song in Hell.

Abe picked up a toy lamb that, while prissy, seemed all right. He tucked this under his arm and continued to peruse the horrible, awful, tortuous store. This was for the toddlers, after all. He had to be strong. If this was what was supposed to make them happy, he decided he'd just have to buckle down and do it. He reached up for a blanket hanging above his head, and inadvertently squeezed the lamb. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a distorted and somewhat evil-sounding voice issued from the stuffed toy.

"_Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep…" _

Aberforth flung the possessed toy to the floor, and scooted away from it warily. _"Great,"_ he thought. _"An animated muggle toy! Just when you need a little privacy, you're bound to have the misuse of muggle artifacts officers breathing down your neck."_

"Is there a problem, Sir?" Asked an entirely too perky young saleswoman. She was dressed from head to toe as though she did all her shopping in very the store they was currently standing in. She had on a pair of Mary Jane shoes with soft yellow lacy socks. She was wearing a lavender pair of coveralls that came to just above her knees, and a Winnie-the-Pooh patterned yellow shirt beneath. In her hair was a pale yellow headband that pulled back shoulder-length brown hair. A smattering of freckles adorned her nose and cheeks, adding to the overall effect of a rather tall 4 year old.

Aberforth shook his head bewilderedly and pointed to the lamb, which was still praying fervently in its mangled voice.

"Oh dear. I see. You know they just need new batteries. They do tend to wear them out so fast."

Abe didn't know what she meant, but he could understand that anything that took a 'battering' on a regular basis was bound to wear out sooner or later. This one just had the good sense to pray for help. It was now praying, _"And if I die before I wake, I pray the Lord, my soul to take." _The poor little thing had lost all hope! He would rescue it, even if scared the bloody hell out of him. He'd give the thing to Edgar; the old goat could use a companion, however demented it was.

"Er…I'll take it. Could you kindly show me to the bastonettes?"

"Pardon? Do you mean 'bassinets'?" Asked the very amused saleslady.

"I suppose I do. Could you point me in their direction? Er…Mindy?" He said, reading her large round name button; which was pink, like half of the entire shop. Mindy giggled girlishly and pointed towards a collection of white, wooden cribs on spindly legs.

"Those are our cribs. We have a nice collection of cradles over here," She indicated with a hand wave to her right, "And of course, our bassinets for the littlest ones over there."

"How…er…old do the littlest ones need to be to use a bassinet?" He asked.

"Oh, I'd say two or three months old at the oldest," She bubbled.

"Oh. Okay then."

All of a sudden a new song came on over the intercom. _"Toy land! Toy land! Little girl and boy land! Once you dwell within it, you are sure to stay!"_ Abe felt as though he were smothering. He frantically began looking for the exits from the shop of horrors. No, he couldn't leave without rescuing the poor little lamb. And he had a duty to provide for the boys…but surely there was an easier way than this. His panicked expression must have tipped off the sales lady that he was in over his head, because she took pity on him.

"You know sir, we have a lovely mail order catalogue this season. Perhaps if you'd be more comfortable shopping that way…" She trailed off.

Abe let out a sigh of relief. He wouldn't have to spend much longer in this disaster of a shop. He nodded quickly, almost frantically. He wanted out and he wanted out now. He made his way to the check out and Mindy handed him a handful of brochures and catalogue magazines after he paid for the tortured sheep. He half grimaced and half smiled at her and hurried out of the shop as fast as he could, as though he might contract leprosy if he stayed a moment longer. He shuddered as he passed the giant baby in it's enormous nappy. _'I wonder how many of Harry's and Dudley's nappies it would take to fill that one?'_ Abe pondered and shuddered again as he remembered; he needed nappies. Lots and lots of nappies.

**Two days later…**

Thus far, Aberforth had been able to extend his leave of absence from the Hog's Head, get groceries, and buy all the baby things. The catalogue had helped immensely in the baby department. The groceries were tough though; he didn't know exactly what babies ate, so he got a little bit of everything. The catalogue was definitely less painful than going into the creepy Bubbles and Burps. Abe shuddered at the thought of it.

From the magazine he ordered one light blue cradle and one dark blue cradle. Sheets and pillowcases also came with the cradles. He had bought six bags of nappies in both Dudley's size and Harry's, a bunch of teddy bears and animals for Harry, and a few for Dudley (his parents would probably provide more than enough toys for him). He got a comfortable looking armchair in light blue to put in the boys' room for himself and a few other necessities such as bottles and nose bogey things. He almost bought a wooden rocking chair, but it didn't look nearly as comfortable as the armchair. He also bought Harry some clothes, pajamas, socks, and little shoes (he didn't think the Dursleys would provide those for him). After he placed his order, which he had to use a public phone to do, he started working on packing up his flat.

His home above the Hog's Head wasn't exactly hard to pack. He didn't own much except a few armchairs, a few books, a mini bar, a now full Permanent Cooling Charmed Box (a Wizarding equivalent to a refrigerator), some legal papers, odds and ends, and some more furniture. It didn't take him long to shrink everything down and put it in a box. He took out a few robes from his closet and shrank the rest and put them in the box. He kept out everything he would need in the next few days and then he would pack them before he left for the Dursleys'.

Aberforth pulled out his list of things to do before the boys came.

**One... Get a house that is relatively remote. Preferably a non-magical place – maybe a small house in Cornwall **

**Two... Procure non-magical baby items. – The boys probably still slept in cribs or bass…er… bastonets?… er…cradle thingies. Right? **_CHECK_

**Three... Take a leave of absence from The Hogshead. – Effective as of 3 weeks ago. **_CHECK_

**Four... Avoid Albus as long as possible, or until he hunts me down – I already do that. **_CHECK_

**Five... Get groceries – of all kinds **_CHECK_

**Six... Ask Levi to take over the bar until further notice **_CHECK_

**Seven... Pack up the flat **_CHECK_

**Eight... Make sure the house that I buy is in Dudley's name**

All he had to do now was to buy a home in Dudley's name. This was a crucial point in his plot. Having a house put in such a young child's name was rare, but not unheard of; especially among the more elite and wealthy pureblood families. He had been able to locate someone within the real estate world willing to cooperate with him in that venture. He'd need a final trip to Krivance's Realty in muggle London for that.

The place catered to both squib and magical needs, and sub sequentially had ties to both muggle and magical properties. The bungalow near Cornwall was actually muggle made and operated, meaning it was wired for electricity and plumbing, as well as having the additional option of either satellite or cable service. He wasn't sure what that was, but he knew he wanted it all the same. He was almost positive that this was the house he wanted. So he decided on one last walk through before he signed the last of the papers. Getting their belongings into the home with the most minimal use of magic possible was going to be tricky, too. He didn't want any more magical complications than he had. He was relatively positive that once the wards were constructed and active, that he could make any good magic performed within half a kilometer of the house, undetectable. Dark magic, however, was something he wanted to be completely detectable. Like he'd said, tricky.

The following Monday, Aberforth Dumbledore arrived in Little Whinging, Surrey. He was confident that all of his most secret plans were still just that, secret. It had taken him the better part of the past three days to secure the deed to the bungalow in Dudley's name. And with that, numbers 1 and 8 had been checked off his list.

Once again wrapped in the frilly, elaborate disguise of his brother's preferred wardrobe, he made his way to the front door of number 4 Privet Drive. He observed all the same procedures that his brother would in this circumstance. He was charmed so that his clothing would appear normal to the eyes of the Dursley's prying neighbors. But, the Dursleys themselves, would see exactly what he intended, and what they expected to see. Peering over the edge of his half moon shaped spectacles, he looked both ways up the street before leaning in to knock on the perfectly white door. The door was wrenched inwards before his knuckles connected with the wood, and he stood, paused for a moment, with his hand still lingering in the air.

"In," hissed Petunia. All of the graciousness she would normally strive to present to a guest long since sapped from her, being in the face of this most trying and difficult catastrophe. Her every facial move spoke of her tenseness, and Abe did not need to be any sort of Legilimens to deduct that the woman felt that her patience, her hospitality, her right to normalcy had been stretched beyond her endurance. If he had not been so unfond of the woman, he might have found himself feeling somewhat sorry for the lady. As it was, he felt no such thing. In fact, the closest thing to compassion that he could muster for her was humor at the situation. At least it was a step up from the negative feelings he had for her innate selfishness. But neither would help the situation. So Abe had simply schooled his face into a pleasant smile, lowered his fist, and stepped into the home as though he had been welcomed in the warmest of ways.

As soon as the door latched behind him, Petunia turned away, marching stiffly down the hall. He supposed he was meant to follow, so he strode after her. Piled in the kitchen were five very large boxes of what he could only assume to be Dudley's things. They were marked: clothing, toys, bottles and formula, nighttime clothes, and more toys. On top of that, there were two different kinds of prams, a pair of car seats, and a large blue bag used for nappies, perched atop a box of nappies and wipes. Thrown casually to the side, as if an after thought, were what appeared to be Harry's belongings. They were shoved haphazardly inside the basket that Aberforth knew he had arrived in. Ah, well, he really couldn't say that this was unexpected.

What he did find unusual, though, was the fact that the portly young blonde baby was not attached at the hip to his mother. Apparently, during the week that they had had to say good-bye to their only son, the Dursleys had not mastered their fear of magic enough to bring themselves to handle their son as they used to. Abe had not spent the last week as a transformed blackbird spying on the Dursleys. But he wouldn't be surprised if Dudley was now only picked up to be fed, changed, or bathed. Just like his cousin. He wondered how well that had gone over with the spoiled boy. He had to keep himself from grinning openly at the thought of his tantrums. He hoped there had been no more accidental magic because of it. Though he suspected that Petunia would be even more flustered if there had been.

"Good afternoon, I presume the boys are ready?" Abe asked gently.

"Yes. They are." Vernon said gruffly from his seat at the table.

"How are you taking the boys to the school? Car?" Petunia asked.

"We'll be traveling by bus today," he stated, not completely untruthfully.

"And their things? What about them? I highly doubt you'll be able to handle two squirming toddlers and all these things at the same time."

Abe gave her a smile and a wink. "Magic."

The Dursleys paled uncomfortably.

Aberforth took out his wand and vanished the boxes, one of the prams, nappies, and Harry's basket. Petunia let out a squeak and looked anxiously towards the windows. She cleared her throat and muttered stiffly, "Right."

Well this certainly was awkward… How exactly was he to get under way? Did this situation call for being delicate and mannerly? Or should he simply be all business, and get out as soon as possible? This was one of the few times in his life that Aberforth actually wished to be his brother. Albus always seemed to know what to do in situations of tenseness. Perhaps it was his innate ability at Legilimency that gave him an edge, or maybe he just was better with people all around. Either way, he knew he shouldn't just stand there with his thumb up his…erm… twiddling his thumbs. What would Albus do? Hmm… he didn't have any lemon drops on him to offer. So….

"Well then, I see you've taken care of everything on this end, Mrs. Dursley. I must say, I really do appreciate your efforts. An-"

"The boys are in the sitting room, and are ready to go," Vernon gruffly interrupted.

'_Well certainly makes things a bit easier.' _

"Alright. Mrs. Dursley? Would you kindly place your son in the pram? I'll get Harry." Abe wasn't entirely sure he could carry Dudley.

He walked into the living room with the Dursleys where Dudley and Harry were playing with building blocks in a new playpen. The new playpen, Aberforth guessed, was only bought for Dudley. Almost certainly, if Dudley weren't in the playpen with Harry, the 'Savior of the Wizarding World' would still be in the broken cage. Petunia carefully picked Dudley up out of the blue playpen by the armpits and placed him in the pram all too quickly. She pecked him on the head once and strolled the pram over next to Aberforth.

"Shall I let you say goodbye?" Abe asked Petunia and Vernon.

Vernon scoffed and said, "We've had a week to do that, thank you. Could you just…" He made a shooing motion towards the door.

"Oh…Of course." Aberforth stooped down and gently picked up Harry. He smiled at the little boy, who at the moment, was verifying that Abe's beard was, in fact, real. He rested the young boy on his hip and started towards the door while pushing the pram holding Dudley. Petunia's tears that she had been holding back for a while now, came down like swift rainstorm. All of a sudden, she ran as fast as her feet could carry her to her son. She pulled him out of the pram and held him to her chest tightly. She only let go of him when she heard Dudley squeak from lack of air. She shakily placed him back down. Vernon walked over to his wife and pulled her into his beefy arms where she started sobbing loudly onto his shoulder. Vernon looked down at his son and said in a tone that he thought was manly, "Goodbye Dudders." Then sniffed in a very un-manly way.

Aberforth took this as his cue to leave. He adjusted Harry on his hip and pushed the pram through the door. The Dursleys were holding each other tightly and Petunia muffled her sobs into Vernon's pudgy shoulder as they left. Abe calmly closed the door after them and made his way down the walkway. He took the boys a few houses down the road to Wisteria Walk and pulled out his wand. A few moments later there was a loud BANG! and the Knight Bus appeared in front of the three wizards.

Arabella Figg cursed out loud as the Knight Bus turned a sharp corner. She almost toppled over…again. She was getting too old for this. Suddenly the bus driver slammed on his breaks. In a well rehearsed tone the driver spoke over the magical intercom, "Wisteria Walk!"

"Move along ma'am, move along. We got's to keep goin'. Thankee Ms," the old and decrepit man said as he helped the Mrs. Fig from her seat towards the exit. He winked at her as she made her way down the steps with her shopping bags. She blushed lightly and smiled at him. "Come again Ms., come again."

"Of course. I'll see you next week Jacob. By the way, what put you in such a mood? I must say, it's quite a nice change."

"Got me new dentures! See? Watch! Dey go…. up! An'…. down!" He said enthusiastically while demonstrating his new trick.

"Oh! I learned that ages ago! Can you do this?" Mrs. Figg was about to demonstrate her little trick when she was interrupted by a cough. She turned around and grinned at the tall man behind her. "Albus! What brings you-Ah! I see you got my message. Those Dursleys simply were not fit to take care of their own child, much less Harr-" She was interrupted, yet again, by his cough.

"Ah yes. Wait a moment…isn't that their…?" She stared confusedly at Dudley. She understood why Harry should be taken back from the Dursleys, but why would Albus have Dumpy? She had been watching the Dursleys for the past few weeks and didn't like what she saw at all. They were clearly unfit to take care of any child. That must be the reason.

Aberforth was in a fix. '_Who is this batty old woman? Obviously she knows who my brother is.. She said she had been watching the Dursleys…Albus always was paranoid. She must be from his Order of the Peacock.' _He thought.

"Yes, I will be taking both Dudley and Harry." Abe said with finality. He knew if he put the 'do not ask' edge in his voice, she wouldn't question him any further. That was one of the rare perks about being Albus. You have a lot of authority.

She paused before answering, "Alright then Albus, you know what's best then."

"Ahem…Sir? We really must get goin'. Places to be and whatnot." Jacob said impatiently. He smiled and winked at Mrs. Figg who was still standing there.

"Good bye, Albus!" Mrs. Figg said cheerily as he boarded the bus with Harry. "Jacob, I'll see you next week then."

Jacob turned his attention to Albus and said in his business-like voice, "Welcome back to the Knight Bus, 'Eadmaster, sir. Will you be needin' any help with your," He paused, "luggage?"

"Yes please. Would you get…er…Walter? I have my hands full at the moment." Aberforth gestured to the pram holding Dudley for Jacob to carry onboard.

Abe absolutely hated the Knight Bus. He hadn't used the bus in years. He much preferred flying, floo, or apparating. His first few rides made him sick each time, much to his older brother's amusement. He wouldn't even be using the Knight Bus, but apparating with children can suffocate them in the mere seconds it takes to travel.

Jacob climbed down from where he was standing on the Knight Bus and walked unsteadily to the pram holding 'Walter'. He sighed and started to try and lift it onto the bus. Mrs. Figg, who was still standing there smiling at him and waiting for him to say goodbye, laughed and said, "Are you a wizard, or are you not Jacob? Levitate it."

He blushed and out his wand and preformed the levitation spell on it and guided the buggy over the steps and onto the first floor of the bus. Jacob grinned at Mrs. Figg and said, "See you next week, ma'am"

Mrs. Figg waved at him and turned to Ern, the driver, "So Ern…I never get to talk to you…how have you been?"

While Mrs. Figg was talking with the driver, Jacob set the carriage down where the 'Headmaster' was sitting with the black haired child on his lap. Then he pulled out his portable cash register and collected the fee.

"Where'll it be suh?" Jacob asked.

"Launcells, North Cornwall, Elizabeth's Lane, please." Aberforth said pleasantly as he was playing peek-a-boo with the Harry, who was sitting facing Abe on his lap while gleefully covering and uncovering his eyes with his little hands. Dudley just ignored Harry and Aberforth, and instead chose to keep making spit bubbles.

Jacob made his way to the front of the bus and sat in a floating chair next to the driver. He sat the register on a nearby table, and they both bid Mrs. Figg farewell, then said, "Alrigh' mate, take er' away!"

BANG! All of a sudden the mismatched chairs flew to the other side of the bus as the Knight Bus apparated somewhere in the country and took an extremely sharp turn. The buggy rolled forward slowly at first and then gained a bit of momentum and rolled speedily to the back of the Knight Bus. Its cargo didn't even seem to notice; he just kept on making his spit bubbles. Aberforth and Harry on the other hand, took notice. Their chair, along with the others, went sliding across to the left side of the bus. Abe held onto Harry firmly and put himself between the child and the chairs as they glided towards a stiff, wooden chair. Fortunately, they didn't crash. An invisible force seemed to keep them a couple feet away from each other. Harry just giggled in excitement.

Like Dudley, some of other passengers occupying a few of the chairs, didn't seem to notice or care at all. A young witch continued reading Witch Weekly, a middle-aged warlock rummaged through his suitcase looking for something, and an extremely pale gentleman read through the Obituaries in the Daily Prophet as they glided back and forth. Although, one customer was turning greener and greener by the minute as his chair slammed from the right side of the bus to the left, not crashing into anything in it's path. Only once he gained control of himself, the Knight bus came to a screeching halt thrusting all passengers forward at once. This was too much for the poor man; he threw up all over the loveseat in front of him. Each and every one of the other passengers turned and looked at the sick in disgust. "Ew…" was heard from all of them in chorus.

"Yorkshire!"

A portly woman climbed the stairs from the second floor and hastily made her way through the exit, eager to get away.

Aberforth took advantage of the bus being in park, and quickly performed a sticking charm on his and Harry's chair. He stood up, sat Harry in the chair, and performed the sticking charm again on Harry and the chair, to prevent him from falling. He made his way to the back of the bus, dodging the chairs as he went. As soon as he approached Dudley in the carriage, he grabbed the handle and pushed it back to where Harry was magically stuck to the chair. Abe cast the charm again on the buggy and canceled the spell on Harry, then sat down hastily before- BANG! They were off.

Seven 'BANGS' and 45 minutes later, they arrived at the Bungalow. Abe wheeled Dudley and Harry down the little lane to the modest bungalow. Not too far from it was a beautiful, sandy beach, and surrounding the house were scattered trees with light green grass below them. In front of the Bungalow, was a small vegetable and flower garden. It was one storey, with a tall stone fireplace in the back. The paint on the exterior was tan and surrounding the house was a one-meter tall, faded, weather**-**worn, drift**-**wood fence. The front porch was small and held a rickety old rocking chair and two wooden benches, with a fan on the ceiling circulating the air.

Aberforth strolled up their stone walk and set the pram on the porch. He lifted Harry from the pram and sat him down on the porch, then heaved Dudley from the carriage as well. He unlocked the front door, and levitated the giggling boys inside. He turned them right, past the stairs leading down the basement, and into the small living room. Then set them down in the large, green playpen filled with toys that he had bought from the magazine. Abe smiled at the boys and sat down on his squashy chintz armchair after canceling his glamour charms.

Abe relaxed and looked around himself at the small sitting room. Moving his things into the house wasn't as tricky as he'd thought. Before he set up the wards, he moved his things in the bungalow and resized them. It was a good thing that the previous owners had good taste in home decorating and left most of their furniture in the house, as he had neither much furniture, or good home decorating skills. Most of the walls were painted tan, cream, sage green, or white. The tile in the kitchen was cream, the carpets were sage green, tan, or white, and the furniture was mostly dark mahogany. The couches and armchairs were tan or sage green, though Abe's personal armchair was bright scarlet red. It didn't exactly fit in too well, but Aberforth loved it all the same.

A door from the sitting room lead to Abe's bedroom, which was done in most of the same colours as the rest of the bungalow. There was a small kitchen, a medium sized dining room, two bedrooms and a joint bathroom on this floor. Out back, there was a small fenced in area that Abe added on for his pet goat, Edgar and the possessed toy lamb. In the basement, which was like another storey, but underground, there was a small bedroom, bathroom, laundry room, and a large open space that took up the rest of the room downstairs, that might have been the previous owner's library, considering the many bookcases. Abe thought that might be a good playroom for Dudley and Harry, or a recreation room for himself. The bookcases though…Abe didn't really read that much, and if he did, it was usually "Making a Magical Margarita". He wasn't sure his "How to Make a Smashing Spiked Sorbet" would be suitable for children…yet.

Over all, the house wasn't that big with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. It was nice, cozy, and secluded, which was exactly what Abe was looking for. The boys would have to share a room, or when they were older, one could sleep downstairs. He would still be able to use magic in the house, but not large amounts.

Aberforth was just thinking about putting the boys down for a nap when Dudley started squalling. Abe got up out of his armchair and went to investigate the matter. Dudley was crying and Abe, for the life of him, couldn't see what was wrong with him. He stooped down to pick up the boy and held him out at arm's length. Abe tried bouncing him up and down to calm him, but to no avail. All of a sudden Dudley stopped crying. Abe sighed in relief, and then was broken from his relaxation by a nasty, putrid smell. It was like rotten eggs!

"Ugh! What is that? No…that was _you_? You snarky little…." Abe started towards the boys' bedroom with Dudley still at arm's length making disgusted faces the whole way there trying to hold his breath to keep from breathing in the horrible smell. When he entered the room, he laid the toddler on the changing table and went searched through Dudley's things, which Abe banished from the Dursleys' to the Bungalow, looking for nappies. "Ah ha! Here the buggers are!"

"Now…How? Oh! You pull this tab…and this tab…and voila-" All of a sudden, Aberforth got a face full of –

"Son of a…"

Albus Dumbledore was in a panic. Harry Potter and the Dudley Dursley had not been at the Dursleys for over three hours now. He checked his Human Presence Detector once again, just to make sure. No, definitely gone.

Albus had been having a relatively normal day. All was going fine with his students and staff. There were no Dark Lords to think about constantly and the students were all safe. The Ministry hadn't been bugging him for a few days, he had a fresh supply of Lemon Drops, and his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had the potential to stay for longer than a year; the others in the past never could stay longer than a year; something always came up.

He was torn from this nice, peaceful day, when he checked his Human Presence Detector in the late afternoon. It was nearly 5:30 and there had been no sign of the Potter boy or the Dursley boy for hours. The Detector showed that Petunia Dursley and Vernon Dursley were still in the house…but no boys. There were hundreds of thoughts going through Albus' mind as to what could have happened.

_They could have been kidnapped! No Death Eater can come within kilometer of the house! (Maybe: "They _**_couldn't_**_ have been kidnapped! No Death Eater can come within a kilometer of the house!" Or "They could have been kidnapped! _**_But_**_ no Death Eater can come within a kilometer of the house!")_

_Maybe it wasn't a Death Eater…_

_Maybe the Blood Wards broke? No…I would have known_

_Did Petunia break her promise? _

_But why wouldn't Dudley be there?_

_Petunia…possibly…Dudley…orphanage… magic…Harry…? What?_

None of this made sense! His detectors showed that the Blood Wards were still in effect; though weak. He'd have to go to the Dursleys' and get this sorted out. Albus walked quickly over to his fireplace, grabbed a pinch of floo, and threw it in the flames to floo-call Minerva McGonagall. He briefly told her that he would be out for a while and left it at that. No need to worry her.

He withdrew his head form the green flames and waited for them to turn red again. He got a larger pinch of floo and stepped into the fireplace. Albus threw the powder into the flames below him and called out, "Arabella Figg's Home, Wisteria Walk!"

"Albus! What are you doing here? Weren't you just… Never mind. It's lovely to see you again," Mrs. Figg said as he cleaned the ash off of his magenta robes. She peered questioningly at him through the kitchen door while sipping her tea near the sink.

"Excuse me, my dear. My hearing must not be as good as it once was. Did you say that I was _just_ here?" Albus' blood ran cold. _No! _Someone could have kidnapped the children right under his own nose! But whom? And why?

"Oh, of course not here. And perhaps you didn't see me, after all. I thought you might not have, as you had your hands quite full with Dumpy Dursley and Harry Potter! You said that…Well, I reckon that you didn't say much, did you?" Mrs. Figg said.

"Arabella, are you sure you saw _me_?" Albus asked.

"Oh…erm, well I suppose not. Not if you don't want me to have seen you just then," She answered slowly. She was rather confused by this conversation.

"My dear, I am very sorry for being unclear. I have not been in this neighborhood for nearly two weeks now. I was actually scheduled to come by on the morrow to arrange some things for young Master Dursley. So, I'm afraid, I really didn't see you earlier, after all. What's more, you didn't see me either. But rather, someone who had gone to some trouble to look like me. This is a troubling event indeed. Is there anything you can tell me about your brush with this person?

Mrs. Figg began to nearly hyperventilate in her panic, and for the next few moments, Albus could only understand a handful of her panicked words. Like; Me in charge… was supposed to… trusted me… bungled it all up… boy-who-lived … missing… my fault until Albus was able to calm her with a spell, and fed her a handful of laced lemon drops. Then he was able to get a better picture of the event. She quickly told of encountering the man while getting off of the Knight Bus, flirting with old Jacob, greeting the man, and the details of him carrying Harry, and pushing Dudley in the pram onto the bus.

"Did you hear where they went, by any chance?

"I believe I overheard your imposter say," She paused to remember, "Ah yes, he said, 'Launcells, North Cornwall' But I can't remember the last part…was is Queen's Street? No…Oh yes! Elizabeth's Lane! That was it! 'Launcells, North Cornwall, Elizabeth's Lane'!"

'_Elizabeth's Lane? I suppose a visit is in order.' _Albus thought.

"Thank you very much Arabella. I would be most grateful to you if you did not mention this visit, nor indeed the one with the mysterious stranger with anyone. We really can't let this get around just yet," He said gratefully as he made his way through the front door, almost tripping over a few cats on the way, "Good day."

'_That man…he is more mysterious than a sphinx' _Mrs. Figg thought as Dumbledore left, still not quite fully unflustered as of yet.

Albus made his way to the edge of the road and summoned the Knight Bus. At first, he intended to go see the Dursleys and inquire as to why their son and nephew were no longer at home, but then he heard Arabella's tale. She said that the man had gone on the Knight Bus to wherever he took the boys, which meant that if he skipped going to the Dursleys', then he would have more time to get to the kidnapper, or whatever his imposter was.

BANG! A few moments later, the conductor, Jacob, appeared in the entrance to the bus. He looked at him, clearly puzzled, and said, "Again, Welcome back 'Eadmaster. Er, where to?"

"Launcells, North Cornwall, Elizabeth's Lane." He replied handing he fee to the man, "Thank you Jacob. Would you please hurry there? This is of the utmost importance."

"Oh, of course 'Eadmaster, of course." Jacob said.

"Thank you." Albus stepped onto the Knight Bus, and took a seat in the only chair that hadn't slid to the left side of the bus.

"Take 'er away Ern." Jacob said quickly.

BANG! The bus took off. There were a few witches and wizards, and other creatures occupying the vacant chairs. There were also a couple children that looked as though they had just been on the ride of their life. Albus waited impatiently to get to Launcells.

A few minutes later, the bus was speeding down towards Elizabeth's Lane and came to an abrupt halt once it approached its destination. Albus exited the bus hurriedly.

Once off the bus, he strode down the small road towards the bungalow near the end. He looked at the bungalow more closely and breathed, "_Aberforth…_" He would know his brother's magical signature anywhere, though it seemed unusually faint at present. As he drew nearer to the small house, an invisible wall stopped him from stepping onto the property.

"Dang."


End file.
